they await,
quite patiently and longingly
to witness the aftermath that never was
the aftermath of self-destruction.
Arms wrapped lovingly around
the bundle of blankets, and hot chocolate
from which hands are gathering warmth
amidst cold and unkindly deserts.
The moon shines brightly tonight
it seems symbolic of love (in the hay-day)
A constant, cruel reminder of coy smiles
and hands slithering down one's pants,
Of a confused mixture of lust and need
confused with lovely feelings of love.
Tired eyes which find it hard to blink again
and lift themselves up to stand up to a world of pain
terrible tragedies trigger unfamiliar emotions
they're as real as the silken clouds seen often in paintings..
As the earth shakes beneath those feet once more
Those eyes, they search for a lighthouse, the silver lining.
